


Putting on the Whammy

by helsinkibaby



Category: Sports Night
Genre: Gen, Humour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why doesn't Michelle Kwan like Dan?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Putting on the Whammy

“Dan, we need to talk.”

 

Those were five words that Dan Rydell never liked to hear in any context. However, coming as they did from Natalie, punctuated as they were by his office door closing firmly, with her standing with her back ramrod straight against it, hands behind her on the handle, they were words that he really, really, didn’t want to hear.

 

Still though, if he’d learned anything in his time working with Natalie, it was to show no weakness, so he leaned back in his chair, waving a hand expressively. “Talk away Natalie,” he said, throwing her an easy smile. “For I am here to help you in any way I can.”

 

She nodded briskly once, then approached his desk with all the intensity of Junior Seau approaching a passing quarterback. Even the look in her eyes was the same, and when she braced her arms shoulder width apart on the desk, leaning down slightly before speaking, he found himself scooting back an inch in his chair, just in case.

 

“You need to change your copy for tonight’s show.”

 

Whatever he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it, and he laughed out loud, more in relief than in amusement. “You’re kidding, right? Since when do you have copy approval?”

 

“Since right now!” Natalie straightened up, reaching over to pluck his copy of his script up from his desk. “You can’t go on the air with this Danny.”

 

Dan grabbed the paper, which she was waving back and forth, and studied it, just to make sure that there was nothing too incendiary on it. “Looks fine to me,” he observed, and then a thought struck him. “How do you know what it says anyway?”

 

Natalie didn’t blink. “Casey showed it to me.” Dan nodded, the proverbial light bulb going on over his head, because he’d thought that Casey looked inordinately happy as he’d left the office; he’d thought it was something to do with Dana. Now he knew it was part of his so-called best friend’s way of torturing him. “I think he wanted to warn me.”

 

“I think he should’ve warned me,” Dan muttered under his breath, an aside not meant for Natalie’s ears.

 

Raised ire, or perhaps incipient panic, seemed to have sharpened her senses though, because her eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

 

“Nothing.” She didn’t look like she believed him, so Dan hastened to bring her back on topic, a measure, he thought, of how dire his straits were. “The copy stays Natalie.”

 

“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, hands on her hips for good measure. “You need to change it.”

 

“Can you give me one good reason why?”

 

Too late, he realised his mistake, and Natalie gave him her patented “You’re an idiot” look to prove it. Of course, she was probably giving him the look for reasons of her own, but Dan wasn’t inclined to split hairs. “You’re talking about the World Figure Skating Championships in Dortmund,” she said, grabbing back his script. “Specifically, the results of the men’s short program earlier today, and looking forward to the long on Thursday.”

 

Dan nodded slowly. “That would be correct.”

 

Natalie’s ire had diminished entirely; panic was all. “Dan, you can’t go on air with this. You say… you actually say that either Michael Weiss or Johnny Weir have a good chance to win a medal.”

 

“They’re fifth and sixth respectively,” Dan reminded her, checking his printout to make sure. “It’s not outside the bounds of possibility-”

 

“Johnny Weir is skating first in the final group,” Natalie countered. “And he’s the only guy there with no quad jump. He’d have to go clean and have the rest of the competition cancelled to medal. You can’t say that.” She paused a beat. “Let Casey say it.”

 

At that, Dan blinked. “It’s all right for Casey to say it, but not me?”

 

Natalie nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “That’s right.”

 

“Natalie-”

 

“Dan, come on… this is for the team. We need some figure skaters to still do interviews with us.”

 

Dan’s eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. “Is this about Michelle Kwan again?”

 

“Amongst others.”

 

“Because Michelle Kwan’s never liked me…”

 

“And you know why that is…”

 

“Natalie…”

 

“You put the whammy on her.”

 

“I did not put the whammy on Michelle Kwan-”

 

“You did… you and your Sports Illustrated Cover Jinx like history of predicting figure skating results…”

 

Natalie threw up her hands as she spoke, and Dan shook his head. “I do not have-”

 

“1997.” Natalie threw the year down like a gauntlet, and all Dan could do was lean back in his seat, knowing what was coming. He could, at this point, almost mouth the words with her, only refraining because that would get him into far more trouble. “Michelle Kwan won almost every competition she entered the season before, and you-” A finger stabbed at him for emphasis. “Waste no time in telling everyone with a television set that she’s a lock for the 1997 National and World titles. And what happens?”

 

“Tara Lipinski.”

 

“Tara Lipinski is what happens. Your jinx makes Michelle slide all over the ice at Nationals, Tara takes that, and the world title… and you tell everyone she’s the favourite for the 1998 Olympics.”

 

Dan narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t she win the 1998 Olympics?”

 

“But not,” Natalie counters, a triumphant gleam in her eye, “Before the ‘98 US Nationals… where you anointed her favourite to win.” A pause, a dead-eyed stare. “She fell on her triple flip in the short program.” Another pause. “So when Michelle skates wonderfully, gets a record amount of sixes…”

 

“Makes you and Dana bawl your eyes out in the control room...” Dan smirked, remembering how their sniffles had travelled over the open mikes, remembering how he and Casey had teased the two women over it. His smirk quickly vanished as Natalie’s expression changes to the glare of death.

 

“You change horses, install her as the Olympic favourite, and what happens when she goes to Japan?”

 

“Tara Lipinski.”

 

“Tara Lipinski is what happens.”

 

“There is no scientific proof…”

 

“1999… going into the World Championships, you once again tell the world that Michelle is the favourite to win. And what happens?”

 

Dan nodded, wearily accepting his fate. “Maria Butyrskaya.”

 

“Twenty-six years of age, the oldest ever ladies’ world champion, the first ever Russian ladies’ world champion… huge upset. All your fault.”

 

“How is Michelle Kwan falling in the short program in Helsinki, while I’m sitting in New York, my fault?”

 

“The whammy.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“So then, constrained by reason and good sense…”

 

“And the censorship of my executive and senior associate producers…”

 

“You hold off on naming Michelle as favourite to win worlds in 2000, and 2001. And what happens?”

 

“She wins.”

 

“She wins. And against our express wishes… and hers, I might add…”

 

“Hers?”

 

“When Casey interviewed her after 2002 Nationals? She asked him, off the record, to keep you muzzled.”

 

“She did not.”

 

“And she’s not the first. We’ve had skaters, skaters’ coaches, skaters’ parents, ringing up, begging you not to endorse them.”

 

“You’re making that up.”

 

“I’m really not. Because they know that after two years of silence, you broke ranks and said that Michelle Kwan was a lock to win in Salt Lake City. And what happened in Salt Lake City Danny?”

 

“Sarah Hughes.”

 

“Sarah Hughes is what happened. We had to get you an escort out of the studio in case angry Michelle fans came after you.”

 

Dan tilted his head to one side. “I thought that was in case you came after me.”

 

“It was.” Natalie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, and Dan had a sudden memory of being in the studio that February night, of how he’d walked through the control room, seeing from the corner of his eye Natalie, wrapped in Jeremy’s arms, her back to him, buried in Jeremy’s shoulder. At the time, he’d thought that she was just emotional over Sarah Hughes’s upset win, over Michelle Kwan ending up with bronze rather than gold, but now, he found himself reassessing. Natalie’s next words cleared up any doubts he might have had. “You’re just lucky Jeremy was there to hold me back. Between that and what you did to Jamie and David…”

 

That really was too much, and Dan’s jaw dropped in protest. “How is it my fault that the French judge was a cheating basket case?”

 

Natalie’s eyes were still narrowed in that glare she had. “The whammy,” she said sagely.

 

“Of course. How stupid of me.”

 

There was a long moment of silence between them, and then, all of a sudden, Natalie’s face changed. Gone was the glare, the ire, the panic, and instead, she was smiling, perky, yet still resolute; in short, the Natalie he was used to dealing with. “Come on Danny, it’s no big deal…” she said sweetly, sitting down on the edge of his desk beside him. “Just take out the bit about Johnny having a chance to medal. He still likes you after how you helped him win Nationals…”

 

Between the change in her demeanour and the reference, Dan was at a loss. “How did I help him win Nationals?”

 

“By putting the whammy on Tim Goebel.” Natalie’s response had him leaning back in his chair and groaning, slapping a hand to his forehead for good measure.

 

“I did not put the whammy on Tim Goebel!”

 

“Danny, he fell three times on three jumps and got marks in the threes. That never happened to Timmy… not until you said he was a sure bet to win.” She smiled winsomely at him. “No-one will ever know… just say Johnny did well to get into the final group, and it’s a good showing for his first time at Worlds. Everyone will be happy.”

 

Sighing, Dan reached for a pencil, scribbling some notes on his script. “Fine,” he muttered, trying to ignore Natalie’s happy noise, the quick clap of her hands. “What do you want me to say about Weiss?”

 

“Oh, that’s fine, leave it as it is.”

 

Dan looked up, arching one eyebrow, sure he was missing something. “I say he’s got a good shot at a medal.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You’re not worried about the whammy?”

 

Natalie actually laughed. “It’s Michael Weiss,” she said. “I don’t care about the whammy.”

 

Dan blinked slowly, an idea skirting around the edges of his consciousness, something that had happened fairly recently… a conversation not unlike this one. It was there, somewhere… he just couldn’t pin it down. “You really believe this…” he said thoughtfully, still chasing the notion, and Natalie nodded, bouncing to her feet.

 

“I really do,” she said happily. “And if you could leave off praising Lindemann, the little German guy? I know the hometown angle’s a good story, but why don’t we leave it for Thursday night’s show? Just in case.”

 

She looked taken aback when Dan sat up straight in his chair, his eyes locked on hers, having finally located the thought that was bothering him. “You were in here yesterday,” he accused. “You were in here, talking about the men’s qualifying group results… about how Emanuel Sandhu won his… you told me that he’d been training hard, that he looked good, that he’d put all his troubles behind him and looked ready to contend for a medal…” Natalie’s face was frozen into a perfectly innocent expression – too innocent, Dan knew at once – but he swore he could see the edges of her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. “And that’s exactly what I said on the show.”

 

“Yes.” There was definitely a smile fighting its way out. “You did.”

 

Looking down at his printout of the current standings, Dan swallowed hard. “He screwed up on the short… he’s in eleventh place right now.”

 

“Yep. Doubled his quad, fell on his triple axel.” The word was said with a peppy bounce, and Natalie wasn’t even bothering to keep her smile back. “Thank you, by the way.”

 

“You mean…” Dan was having trouble with the concept. “You came in here yesterday, on purpose, and got me to put the whammy on Emanuel Sandhu?”

 

Natalie’s eyes grew wide. “Hey, I just wanted to see if your powers worked for good as well as evil… and they do, so that’s all right, right?” She looked at him, as if expecting a reply, but, for once in his life, Dan Rydell was completely and utterly speechless. “Besides,” she added, walking backwards towards the door, an impish grin on her face, “I thought you didn’t believe in the whammy?”

 

Dan opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before recovering the ability to form one simple syllable. “Go.”

 

“I’m going!” She held her hands up as she laughed, and he watched her leave, bracing himself as she paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “You’ll change the copy?”

 

He nodded, rolling his eyes. “I’ll change the copy.”

 

“You’re the best Dan.”

 

He rolled his eyes again, waving a hand in dismissal. “Get out of here.” Even before she was gone, he was throwing his script in the bin with one hand, reaching for a folder with the other. “Ladies qualifying groups…” he muttered to himself, deciding that he’d leave writing the men’s section for a little while, the better to let Natalie’s comments dissipate from his brain. “Good chance of winning… two horse race between Michelle Kwan and Sasha Cohen…” He duly made the note, running an eye down the list of competitors, trying certain phrases out loud, just to see how they sounded. “Outsiders… Hungary’s Julia Sebestyn, the new European champion… Japan’s Fumie Suguri, twice a world bronze medallist, can she improve on that?” Another name caught his eye, and he stumbled over the pronunciation. “Shaz…Shuz… Shizuka Arakawa? What the hell kind of name is that?” Pondering it for a moment, he shook his head, putting a line through the name. “Forget about it… she hasn’t got a hope.”


End file.
